


A Little Broken, Still Good

by JFoster



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Nobody Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 19:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JFoster/pseuds/JFoster
Summary: Clint rescues you from the hell that is Sokovia.





	A Little Broken, Still Good

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request on my tumblr, I hope you like it! It's my first Clint fic and i'm pretty pleased with it.

When Clint found you huddling behind a pile of bodies and rubble in Sokovia, he knew he couldn’t leave your side. There was something about you that made him want to protect you with every breath of his being.

“Barton! We need you!” Natasha called over the communicator built into his hearing aids.

“Can you make it without me for a little bit, Nat?” he asked while trying to locate the path of least resistance to you.

“I mean…I guess. It wouldn’t be the first time, Clint.”

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re never going to let Budapest go, are you?” he whispered as he started to inch closer to your shivering form.

“Nope!” she snorted.

“Can you just…,” he grunted while trying to avoid stepping on anyone, “give me a minute? I think I got something here.”

“Copy that, Widow out.”

You must have finally noticed movement around you because your head snapped up to locate the noise. Impossibly, once you saw an unknown figure approaching, you curled even further into yourself, whispering frantically. As Clint inched his way closer, he could just barely make out what you were saying.

“Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me,” you whimpered to both yourself and him. His chest tightened in response. Here you were, hiding under a pile of bodies, trying your best to keep yourself safe. He was both proud of and terrified for you.

“Hey…” he called out softly. Your petrified gaze med his; Clint could feel your fear as if it were his own. He so wanted to scoop you up and carry you off far away from here. Instead, he froze in place. If it meant keeping you from scurrying off into the night, he’d do just about anything.

“Please don’t hurt me,” you whispered, “You can go, I won’t tell anyone I saw you. I promise.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart,” he said soothingly. Disbelief flashed in your eyes. If he hadn’t been watching closely, he would have missed the smile of contempt that crossed your face briefly as if to say _‘yeah right buddy, I’ve see what’s going on out there_.’

“I’m an Avenger. We’re here to help.”

“You’re an Avenger?” you whispered in awe. _Awe_. He could work with this.

“Yep.”

“Do you know the Black Widow?” you asked excitedly.

Clint chuckled sardonically. Here you were surrounded by bodies half scared out of your mind but apparently that wouldn’t stop your inner fan geek. He knew Natasha had been listening to your entire exchange while she was out fending off Ultron’s army of evil robots. Evil robots…in all his years doing the crime fighting thing, he had finally and truly seen it all.

“I do,” he grinned. You’d relaxed enough that you didn’t even notice him slowly stepping closer.

“Prove it.”

“Tell you what, kid. How about I do you one better? How about you talk to her for yourself?” He pulled a spare comm from his pocket and held it out in an outstretched hand. Nodding reassuringly at you, he watched as you carefully took it and placed it in your own ear.

“Hello?” you asked hesitantly.

“So, I hear you’re a Black Widow fan,” Natasha’s voice crackled over the coms. Your face lit up like a Christmas tree; Clint couldn’t help but smile in response as he watched your eyes grow huge in excitement.

“Yeah!”

“Why don’t you let my friend, Hawkeye help you out and you can come meet me in person?” she suggested. Much to his surprise, your eyes grew even bigger when you finally realized the identity of the man trying to help you.

“ _You’re_ Hawkeye?”

“Yeah, kid. I’m Hawkeye. She’s Black Widow. If you come with me, you’ll even get to meet Iron man and Captain America.” You grabbed his hand half in excitement and relief. You were finally getting the hell out of there.

* * *

 

After meeting the Avengers at the quinjet, you decided you liked Clint the best and quite literally latched onto him the entire ride back to the Tower. You’d curled yourself into his lap and promptly fell asleep. Everyone found it obnoxiously adorable.

“So Barton,” Tony started, “what are you going to do about that stray of yours? Do you know if she’s house trained? I can get you some books on it. It’s really not that hard to do.”

“Can it, Stark. We literally just rescued her from what has to be the worst day of her what young life and you’re making jokes about her being a stray? Come on, man. Be better than that,” Sam snapped. The stress and the tragedy they’d all faced weighed heavily on everyone’s shoulders. Unfortunately, Tony’s ill timed humor was just an ounce too much. Sam regretted snapping at Tony the instant it happened, but it was too late to take the words back. Tony understood though; he didn’t like it but he understood.

“To answer your question, Mr. Stark, I’m 19. I’ve already been house trained. Not sure we can say the same about you,” you mumbled voice thick with sleep. Soft laughter broke the tension in the quinjet. Oh yeah, you’d fit in nicely.

Despite the many objections of Tony Stark and the rest of the team, you opted to stay with Clint at the apartment he sometimes shared with Natasha. It seemed that you’d imprinted onto him.

“Are you sure about this, kid? I’m not really the best at taking care of people. Sure you don’t want to stay with Nat instead?” he asked nervously.

“Why? Because she’s a woman? Well that’s sexist, I’ll be sure to tell her you said that,” you retorted.

“No! Th-That’s not what I meant! I just thought you’d be more comfortable with her, that’s all.”

“I’m 19, Mr. Barton. I’m not a toddler. I just need a place to crash until I get back on my feet. I’ll even get a job and pay rent if that helps.”

“Jeez, kid. You don’t need to pay rent. Of course you can stay with me. I just wanted to make sure you knew that you had options. And please, call me Clint. ‘Mr. Barton’ just makes me feel old.”

“I feel safe with you, Clint,” you whispered. Clint’s heart broke a little at that. He felt like a fool for not even considering why you’d want to stay with him. Of course you felt safe with him; he’d rescued you from hell. Pulling you into a tight hug, he pressed a gentle kiss on top of your dirty forehead.

“Come on kid, let’s go home.”

* * *

It took almost two months for the nightmares to start.

When you first moved in with him, he gave you the unused third bedroom he always claimed he was going to turn into a gym. Everyone knew that would never happen. It didn’t have much but you were grateful. Tony had an entire wardrobe shipped to you as well as things his clever assistant, Jenna, told him you’d need. He’d honestly stopped listening after she said ‘tampons’ and told her to order whatever she thought was appropriate for a 19 year old girl.

After a couple of weeks, you’d established a pretty easy routine. It turned out you and Clint were remarkably similar. Even Lucky took to you as if he’d known you his entire life. You were something more than roommates; there was an oddly familial bond that neither of you were entirely ready to acknowledge. Natasha noticed how quickly you stuck to Clint. You were like a shadow. He’d even started training you to shoot with a bow, surprised to find you were a natural. It was almost as if fate decreed the two of you should find each other; the orphan and the lonely archer.

If Clint were completely honest with himself, he’d admit he was glad they didn’t start sooner. He needed to some time to heal just as much as you did. When he woke up to you shrieking in terror he actually felt his heart stop. Had someone gotten into his apartment? He bolted out of bed, threw on a shirt and grabbed his bow. Dashing to your room, he’d already nocked three arrows. When he finally burst through the door he was greeted with the sight of you thrashing wildly in your sleep. Setting aside his bow and arrows, he moved to wake you up.

“Kid! Hey, kid. Come on, wake up,” he pleaded, shaking you gently. Your nightmares had a firm grip on you; they refused to let you go.

“Dad! Clint!” you cried out in anguish. Just when Clint thought his heart couldn’t break anymore for you, you went and called him ‘Dad’.

“Hey…sweetheart. Wake up, please. I’m right here, kid. I’m right here,” he soothed. You awoke with a start, eyes searching blindly in the dark. Clint pulled your shivering body into tightly his arms.

“I thought I lost you,” you whimpered, “I thought you were gone!”

“I’m not going anywhere, kid.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

It took a little while but you eventually fell asleep again, your arms wrapped fiercely around Clint’s waist. He laid there with you, his mind running a thousand miles a minute. Given the way he grew up and the nature of his line of work, he never had time for kids. Until he met you, it seems. When you called him ‘Dad’ something clicked into place. He finally understood why he was so drawn to you. You were his kid, through and through, biology be damned. ‘ _Dad_ ’. That’s a code name he could definitely get used to.

Clint didn’t even notice when he dozed off. Sunlight shining through the window and the smell of coffee woke him from a better night’s sleep than he’s had in a while. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Natasha standing in the doorway holding his favorite mug.

“ _Rise and shine, sleeping beauty_ ,” she signed after she handed him the steaming mug.

“ _Hey, what are you doing here so early_?” he signed back in confusion. You were still sleeping soundly against his chest, arms firmly around his middle.

“ _Stark and Fury wanted a check up on your stray_ ,” she grinned, “ _I’d say things are going pretty well_.”

Clint sighed as the memory of your nightmares game back to him. You’d called him ‘Dad’. He wasn’t sure how you’d feel about with when you woke up, but for now he got to bask in the glory of being needed.

“ _She called me_ , ‘Dad’, _Tash_.”

“ _It was only a matter of time. She imprinted on you like a baby bird. You know Sam calls her ‘Baby Hawk’ right?_ ” He grinned at this. Leave it to Sam to come up with a ridiculous nickname for you.

“ _I’m not even surprised_.”

“Is that coffee?” you asked with your eyes still closed.

“Oh yeah, Clint,” Natasha spoke aloud, “she’s definitely your kid.” Clint snorted and set the coffee mug on your nightstand. Sensing that the two of you needed to talk, she made herself scarce. It was time to bring up the name slip.

“Hey there, sweetheart. How ya doin’?” he asked softly. You cracked open one eye and looked at him warily. His sheepish grin was endearing.

“My head feels like it’s been run over by several tanks. Why are you here?”

“You had a pretty nasty nightmare,” he reminded you. Oh. Oh no. The light of realization hit you as your memories came flooding back.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with a worried look on his face.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that. I mean, I _know_ you’re not my dad. It was an accident.”

Clint felt his heart sink when he heard your apology. It was his own fault. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up too high. When you watched Clint’s face fall after your apology, you couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken too. An awkward silence filled the air and you closed your eyes in embarrassment. You could hear Natasha playing with Lucky in the kitchen. Clint’s phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it into view to discover a text from the meddlesome red head.

“ _Just tell her, you idiot_!” she sent. How did she—? Never mind. Clearing his throat, Clint braced himself.

“What if I want to be…?” he asked.

“What if you want to be, what? I haven’t had coffee yet, old man. Now’s not the time to be cryptic,” you grouched. He snorted.

“What if I want to be your dad?” he clarified. That got your attention. Meeting his hopeful gaze, you could feel your heart soar. You’d never had a dad before.

“Seriously? I’m almost 20. You missed out on a lot here, old man.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t still teach you things. I could be your dad. The Avengers could be your family. You could stay if you wanted,” he offered. You’d already made your decision before he’d even finished his offer. Something deep in your soul told you this was where you belonged.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like you to be my dad.”

“Finally!” Natasha shouted from the kitchen. Lucky bounded into your bedroom and leaped onto your bed, barking happily. You finally had a family. It was a little damaged, but it was still good. You finally had a place where you belonged.


End file.
